


falling into you

by LittleRouset



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/F, Fashion Designer! Kiyoko, Uni!, Writer! Yachi, kiyoko is an angel, kiyoko needs coffee, these nerds love records, very gay girls fall into one anothers lives at a record store, whats new honestly, yachi is just so gay, yachi is tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 01:03:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8267014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRouset/pseuds/LittleRouset
Summary: Yet even that may not have helped her, for Yachi’s breath was taken away once again upon seeing the woman that stood at the front of the store, head tipping to look toward Yachi upon her entrance. To say she was beautiful was an understatement.And Yachi’s poor, poor gay heart could not quite comprehend it. ((In which two very tired college queers have a bad day, get nerdy over records, and quite literally fall into each other's lives))





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> This is officially my second ever fanfic, I'm proud to have had it come so soon after my first! It's a huge contrast in tone and writing style, but that's the most fun.
> 
> I'm sorry if this is incredibly cheesy. This was another personal release with a happier connotation, but again I'm truly just a high school queer girl in her AP Lit and creative writing classes trying to gEt hEr sHit tOgEtHeR. 
> 
> (Mostly unsuccesfully, of course)
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Catch my info in my profile :)

Yachi was _not_ feeling it today.  
She was exhausted, beat down emotionally, and probably looked like she had been run over by a car. More accurately a bus. Hell, maybe an entire train.

Uni had been exhausting her. Currently, she was running on 2 hours of sleep a night due to her mix of writing and literature classes. The circles under her eyes refused to go away, no matter the amount of concealer she used. She had honestly stopped trying. Her hair hung sad and straight just below her jawline, wrapped into her typical additional side ponytail. She was currently sporting a pair of black leggings, black converse, and a white oversized knit sweater that slid just a bit over her hands. What could she say? Being short meant sweater paws, and she wasn’t complaining. Yachi was petite. Especially considering her meals lately typically consisted of ramen; who knew the college rumors she heard in high school actually would come true? 

Yachi was currently hustling through her little brick-walled apartment, nearly bumping her hips on each countertop in her hurry to get ready. She was late to class from staying up into the wee hours of the morning to finish her latest novella, and she’d barely had time to shower. Snatching her phone off the kitchen counter, she (in a very anime-style fashion) popped a piece of toast into her mouth, grabbing her lavender backpack and running out the door. 

(She only stumbled once, mind you.)

Yachi had been doing nothing but writing through the night. ALL she wanted to do today was get the newly released limited edition record by her favorite small band. Simple, enough right? Yet first she had to suffer through all of her classes without passing out, the record on her mind being the only thing keeping her going. 

And of course, she _could_ just buy it on iTunes, or find it on Youtube, or get a CD- but honestly Yachi was a huge nerd when it came to records. And this was one she most definitely wanted. She had been waiting ages for them to release a record version of their album. Every previous album the band released had been the soundtrack pulling her through the long nights during Uni, so she really did need to add this one to her collection. It was important to her. 

And okay, maybe she was running a _tad_ later than she anticipated after class as she practically leapt down the stairs at her college building. And yes, she was completely freaking out that just _maybe_ there wouldn’t be any records left, considering the band was quite indie and relatively unknown, in addition to the fact that the records were limited edition. Yachi ran down the small sidewalk, yelping apologies to people as she brushed by, frantically checking her watch to assure she would catch her bus across town. Yachi had just spent another day running on zero energy, and between all of her literature classes she barely even had time to feed herself. Never fear, though. Here she was: highly caffeinated, disheveled, and wiggling incessantly on the bench as she awaited the bus. 

Yachi was not the type to give up. She was going to get that record, no matter if she looked slightly crazy in her current state. Yachi didn’t know, and didn’t quite care. At this point she was willing to fight whoever was in her way if it meant getting the last record. 

That is, until she pushed open the door to the hole in the wall record store in a fluster, and saw just quite who she may be up against. She had exited the bus in a flurry (tripping merely once) and sprinted over just in the nick of time. Her chest was heaving; she probably needed to use her inhaler. Yet even _that_ may not have helped her, for Yachi’s breath was taken away once again upon seeing the woman that stood at the front of the store, head tipping to look toward Yachi upon her entrance. 

To say she was beautiful was an understatement.

And Yachi’s poor, poor gay heart could not quite comprehend it. 

~~~~~

Kiyoko had spent the entire day attempting to, well, _get her shit together_. 

The morning had begun rough when she slept through her alarm, causing the rest of the day to tumble downhill thereafter. Kiyoko never slept through alarms, but between school and working to support herself she was left with very few hours of downtime. Today was simply not her day.

First of all? Kiyoko needed coffee. Daily. Multiple times daily. It was not an arguable fact.

Second of all, this morning Kiyoko had gotten ready in a rush, causing her outfit to just not be up to her standards. Which was not okay with her. A black dress and a white sweater. Nothing “ugly”, (as Kiyoko didn’t own anything ugly. She worked at a fashion magazine for God’s sake) but truly not her classiest. She had a certain reputation to uphold.

Plus, she hadn’t even had time to shower. Kiyoko needed to be at work on time in order to get out of work on time. And tonight, she couldn’t be kept for late hours. It was an important day.

And then! In addition to the fact that she was tired, disgruntled, and overall not in a good mood- she had spilled her _one cup of coffee_.

Now that was just the universe being cruel.

Kiyoko had at the very least remembered to make herself a delightful cup of coffee to go before exiting her door, tasting it with a single sip. It was the lovely hipster coffee that was way too expensive, yet an investment Kiyoko couldn’t help but indulge in. It was a magical experience, the first cup of coffee each morning. Especially when made with just the right amount of cream and sugar- not too bitter, but not so sweet as to have it no longer taste like coffee.

Today her cup had been perfect. 

Yet, in her rushed tumble out her apartment complex; she spilled it. All over herself. Did it seem like she had time to get another cup? The answer is no. No, she did not. This made more a very exhausted, very bitter Kiyoko. 

The universe truly, truly hated her today. 

Kiyoko jumped into her shiny black car, her typically impassive expression ferociously upset. It must have been rather terrifying to any passerby. 

(Still, probably in a beautiful way. Considering that Kiyoko simply is inherently beautiful. Unfair, to be honest.)

Kiyoko had cleaned up a bit, proceeding to survive a long day and work; which was full of unusually demanding and rude people. All she wanted to do was get what she had been waiting over a month for; the limited edition record to her favorite indie band. They were barely releasing any actual records, and Kiyoko had a _thing_ for records. She’d been collecting them since she was but a tween. 

(Let us never look back on the time of Kiyoko with a bowl cut, braces, and unflattering glasses.)

But even through all her efforts, here Kiyoko was: late. Late, devoid of her previously pristine white cardigan, hair pulled back sloppily, and overall exhausted.

It gets better though. The day wasn’t over, and just as she entered the record store she was met with a bit of an unpleasant surprise. 

But really, could she call it- er, _her_ unpleasant when she was most likely the cutest girl to catch Kiyoko’s attention in the past year?

Probably not.

~~~~~~

Yachi stood there in shock, chest moving slightly up and down with the effort of her breathing. 

Except, now she couldn’t really breathe, because she _swears_ that she was staring at the face of an angel. 

Kiyoko was wearing a rather short, simple, form fitting black dress. Was it even legal to look that good in a little black dress? It simply hugged her in all the right places. The dress was long sleeved, accentuating the slender length of Kiyoko’s arms. The neckline dipped into a V, before flaring out at her waist. Her hair was pulled back messily, but it still shone in the soft light that filtered through the record store windows. Yachi briefly wondered if she had even put effort into looking this good. Somehow it seemed that on the woman in front of her it was effortless as breathing, just being beautiful. 

She was an angel. An angel with beautiful eyes, the kind that poets and novelists dedicated pages to. The kind Yachi suddenly desired to dedicate a full book to. Blue, yet so light they seemed almost crystal, furthermore flattered by the dark, thick lashes around them. Slim, flattering pink glasses adorned her face. A delicate nose followed by a pronounced cupid's bow and full pink lips. Satin hair so black it was almost reflective, cut roughly around the collarbones. God, even her _collarbones_ were beautiful. Yachi couldn’t help but glance lower, eyes finding a slender waist, full brea-

Yachi had to force herself to stop. Inhale. Her internal monologue currently consisted of something along the lines of:

“holy shit hitoka that is a BEAUTIFUL GIRL oh god, why did i have to look like this today? why couldn’t i be more presentable? i’m pretty sure the ponytails in my hair are half falling out, and i’m barely wearing any makeup, and jesus is that a mole on the corner of her mouth? thats so… that isn’t even fair, she’s so tall, and her _legs_ , and wow her mouth is just- hitoka stop. control yourself. breathe, hitoka. _god_ she’s pretty.”

It was quite obvious that she was having an internal monologue, from the way Kiyoko saw her mouth fall agape, followed by a shake of her head, and an adorably awestruck pout. 

The two of them, nearly, _nearly_ forgot what they came for. 

Yachi steeled herself, cheeks flush red with embarrassment, and brushed directly by Kiyoko towards the New Release section of the record store. She could do this. She could ignore the angel that’s eyes followed her as she walked for two minutes to buy this record, right? She had to. 

And no. She didn’t avert her eyes to stare. Not at all. Definitely not.

Kiyoko couldn’t help but snap out of her trance as well, though she was much more subtle about it. Brushing her hair behind her ears, she gracefully followed the small girl, light as a cat. From behind it was impossible not to more pointedly stare at the girl. She was small, her daisy blonde hair swinging by her chin as she walked. Kiyoko couldn’t help but think of how lovely it may be to cuddle her. Her blush was incredibly endearing, something difficult to pull off. The sweater she wore looked incredibly soft, and it dipped just past her knuckles. Which _was_ quite possibly Kiyoko’s favorite thing. Kiyoko continued to follow her deeper into the store, unable to help noticing that in those leggings she had a really, undeniably cute butt.

What? Kiyoko was about as straight as a twisty, rainbow french fry.  
(What an interesting analogy.)

Perhaps the day was looking up, if she could get this girl to talk to her?

Perhaps not. 

Following the small girl's steps, she realized where they both were headed. 

And not even for the cutest girl in the world could she possibly give up the chance to buy _the last_ of the records on the shelf. 

Kiyoko wasn’t that weak, and having substantially longer legs- Kiyoko brushed past her.  
It clicked then for Yachi what was happening. They both wanted that record. And there was only one sitting on the shelf. Yachi quickened her pace, just an inch behind Kiyoko. 

Wow, she smells delightfully of flowers-

(Yachi, not now.)

Kiyoko made it first, and reached out for the record, only to be rather rudely interrupted with the panicked grip of (wow, she has extremely soft hands) delicate fingers wrapping around her wrist.  
Yachi’s eyes widened when Kiyoko looked down at her. Warm, honey brown meeting clear, icy grey. Each girl froze for a moment, the tension between them palpable. Yet every moment lasts only so long, and raising an eyebrow Kiyoko pointedly looked at the hand that was still clamped down on her wrist. 

(It looked rather cute there, perhaps if it slid down a bit, to interlace their fingers-)  
(Kiyoko, has it been _that_ long since you’ve been laid? Pull yourself together.)

As if only just then realizing what she had done, Yachi jumped back with a yelp, bumping lightly into the shelf behind her. And of course; simply out of aid, Kiyoko reached a hand to Yachi’s shoulder to steady her. There were no ulterior motives in Kiyoko’s touch, even if Yachi’s sweater was just as soft as she had imagined. 

Yachi shuddered under her touch. This was simply unfair. Why did the universe have to devastate her plans? This was war, in fact. Yachi couldn’t afford to completely lose her composure just yet. 

“Uhm. I- Uh. Hi.” Yachi stuttered, eyes wide as Kiyoko’s hand slid off of her, fingers trailing just the _slightest_ bit. 

Unintentionally, of course.

(Yachi still blushed.)

“Sorry about uh. Grabbing you. I- Are you-“ Yachi awkwardly motioned to the last remaining record.

Kiyoko nodded, a small smile meeting her lips. 

(That wasn’t fair. Kiyoko had to understand what this was doing to Yachi’s very, very gay heart.)

“Yeah. I assume you’re also here to get this? Honestly, I’m surprised many other people around here even know who they are.” Kiyoko spoke steadily, amusement laced into her voice.

“Uhm. Yeah, I like them. A lot, actually.” Sliding an arm past her, Yachi reached for the record. “So I’ll just be… getting this.” The aisle was relatively slim, causing them to be far too close for comfort.

(Or perhaps quite the opposite, though neither would ever admit it.)

Kiyoko sidestepped, blocking Yachi from reaching the shelf. Yachi frowned, pulling her hand back. Kiyoko shook her head, crossing her arms firmly over her chest.  
(How disappointing.)

Kiyoko spoke, and Yachi worked very hard to keep eye contact. “As genuine and cute as you seem, I can’t let you do that. I’ve been waiting over a month for this record.” Kiyoko pouted slightly. 

Yachi’s mouth spread into a grim line, though she flushed at the sudden compliment. She crossed her own arms to mirror the taller girl. “Yeah, I have too.”

 

Yachi attempted to reach around her again, but Kiyoko moved, eyes narrowing.  
“It seems like we are going to have a bit of a problem. Today has been a disaster, and this was the one thing I’ve been looking forward to.” Kiyoko made a frustrated face, drastically contrasting the impassive one she wore before. “I spilled my coffee this morning. My _coffee_. All in order for me to be able to still finish work on time and come get _this record_. Do you understand? I can’t just let you buy it.”

Yachi gulped, as Kiyoko’s face was striking in essentially any expression she formed with it. But no. Yachi had been struggling too, lately. She deserved this. Staring Kiyoko straight in the eye, she spoke. 

(Inside she still trembled. Along with her bottom lip.)

(Kiyoko had very, very beautiful eyes.)

“Well. How exactly do you intend to stop me, then?” Yachi spoke, raising an eyebrow and stepping slightly closer, even as her anxiety swelled due to the proximity. Maintaining eye contact, Yachi darted around her arm around Kiyoko, successfully grasping the record. Triumph swelled through her as she pulled back turned around to walk back to the register, clutching it to her chest. 

But it really couldn’t be that simple for Yachi, could it?

Kiyoko quickly followed behind her, attempting to reach over Yachi’s shoulder and get the record for herself. She leaned over the small girl, weight moving onto her toes to take it from her grasp.

(Emphasis on “attempting”.)

Squealing in rebuke, Yachi tried to pull away, only causing her to stumble. 

And in return, bring Kiyoko down with her.

Just their luck. Or maybe it truly _was_ just their luck, considering that when Kiyoko and Yachi opened their eyes they found themselves face to face- much closer than strictly necessary. Once placed there, neither could quite bring themselves to move, or speak, or do much of anything.

Though that very well could have been due to their rather compromising position on the record store floor, Kiyoko’s taller figure sprawled in a mess of limbs on top of Yachi; the small, sunny girl beneath her. Both their cheeks flushed a deep pink.

They could feel one another breath on their face, the record wedged between them. Who would want to speak first in this situation, break the moment? The sparks practically flew between them. They had felt it since they first walked into the store. What kind of coincidence could this entire instance be? It must mean something, right? Which of them would wish to speak, ruin the lightning that currently flew?

(Well, Yachi is known for her awkward rambling.)

Without moving, Yachi gulped, suddenly very, very aware of her situation. 

“Um. So. Here we are. Here you are. And me. And this record, that we both want. And-“

She blinked a few times. Kiyoko began to shift, pulling back slowly. Yachi hurried onwards, recognizing (for once, considering how oblivious she typically is) the opportunity life quite literally just shoved onto her. 

“Wait,” Yachi’s voice squeaked, and she visibly winced at the desperate sound. Yet it had it’s desired effect, as Kiyoko remained, eyes flickering with question. Yachi took a breath, still clutching the record. 

“Iwasthinkingmaybewecouldlistentotherecordtogether” She released all at once. 

It was amusing, truly. Her cheeks were flushed brighter than a tomato, and Kiyoko couldn’t help but allow a (rather musical) laugh escape her. This girl must have been a dream.

“What did you just say?” Kiyoko was still very aware of the fact that she was in the lap of this girl in the middle of a record store. But due to her travesty of a day, she honestly couldn’t bring herself to care. The small smile on her face trailed it’s way up to her eyes, admiration and amusement clear.

“I said- Maybe… maybe we could listen to it together? I’ll um. Pay for half?” Yachi’s eyes were hopeful, evidentially nervous. 

Well. 

This must be the universe giving her a sign, right? Kiyoko figured that it had to be. And really, who could deny those eyes? Honey brown, big, innocent?

(Certainly not Kiyoko. Although she hid it much, much better.)

“That sounds lovely.” Kiyoko smiled, laughing at the oddity of the situation. “I’m Shimizu, by the way. Shimizu Kiyoko.” She stood slowly, smoothing her skirt and reaching a hand down to help the smaller girl up.

“Yachi.” She said brightly, extending her hand up to Kiyoko, biting her lip.

(It’s fair to say her heart skipped a beat when their hands met. Even though they had just been entangled on the floor. Does young love ever make any sense?)

“Yachi Hitoka.”

 

*And thus, the story of how two very sappy, very gay girls fell (quite literally) into one another’s lives.*

**Author's Note:**

> ~~~Sometimes the universe sends us the best messages in the oddest ways.
> 
> And hey, all you can do is take them as they come. ~~~
> 
>  
> 
> well. that was something!
> 
> it's a huge difference in comparison to my last fic, but i hope anyone who read it enjoyed it somewhat.
> 
> as always, i appreciate any and all feedback! 
> 
> thank you so so so much for reading.
> 
> ((i need to get a romantic life of my own, shit))


End file.
